When Winter Ain't A Wonderland
by OllieCollie
Summary: There were multiple reasons Jack Kelly wasn't a fan of winter. This year, would that list of reasons include the heart-wrenching possibility of losing one of his brothers?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, y'all! I'm super excited to be posting my first multi-chapter fic! Usually I stick to the one-shots, but I decided to change it up a little today. :)**

 **I'm still totally open to prompts, so feel free to leave one in the reviews or shoot me a PM!**

 **Enjoy!**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.**_

* * *

Jack Kelly hated winter.

For one thing, the snow and ice made the people who were brave enough to venture out on foot hurry on their way. The cold had them focused on getting someplace warm rather than wasting time buying a newspaper.

The holidays were over, and the end of the festivities brought with it a decrease in paper sales. After the excitement of Christmas and New Year's, no one was interested in a pape commenting on the obvious weather.

And the freezing temperatures didn't affect only the customers.

"Jack, y' almost done?" Crutchie hobbled over to the older boy, empty newspaper bag slung over one shoulder. He moved cautiously, being sure that his crutch didn't slip on the icy street.

The Manhattan leader sighed. "I gots three more to go, Crutchie."

"Oh." The boy's face fell. He coughed into his sleeve and shivered.

Jack frowned at the fourteen-year-old. "You okay?"

Crutchie nodded quickly. "I's fine." He shivered again.

"You ain't. You's been sniffing for two days straight now, and your cough's gettin' worse." Before Crutchie could respond, Jack darted across the street, newspapers in hand. The "poor orphan boy" charade worked its wonders on the older women waddling down the sidewalk, and within fifteen seconds Jack had sold two of his last papes. He dropped the coins into his pocket and returned to Crutchie. "And your leg's been real stiff, too," he continued, picking up the conversation right where he'd left off.

Crutchie rolled his eyes. "You knows it's always like this in th' winter."

"Yeah, I know. And I don't like it." Jack spotted another passerby headed down the street. He slipped over and hollered a ridiculous headline. The man all but grabbed the paper from Jack's hands, tossing a penny at him.

Jack pocketed the copper coin and turned back to his friend. "All right, kid, let's go." He was in just as much of a rush to meet up with the others and make it back to the lodging house.

Crutchie didn't move, his gaze lingering on—Jack turned to look. Nothing.

Jack waved a hand in front of the kid's face. "Crutch?"

The boy startled, focusing in on Jack. "Hm?"

Jack just frowned.

"I's fine," Crutchie mumbled sheepishly. "Just tired." The young newsie offered a grin, trying to hide the fact that his teeth were chattering and he was more than ready to get out of the chilly air.

Jack's eyebrows furrowed even more. He didn't like the way Crutchie was acting one bit. The older newsie tugged at the sleeves of his thin, tattered coat, pulling it off and tossing it over

Crutchie's shoulders. He ignored the boy's protests. "Jack! You's gonna be freezin'."

He snorted. "Not any more than I already am. I can't even feel my fingers." It was spoken in a light tone, but the younger boy took it seriously. "Jack!"

"Quit gripin' and let's just get on home," Jack said, picking up his pace. Crutchie followed, muttering under his breath the whole way.

Snow was beginning to fall by the time the boys all made it to the lodging house. Jack mentally counted the group.

"How's you feeling?" he asked Albert, who almost hadn't sold today due to the wracking cough he'd developed practically overnight.

The boy scowled. "Could be a heck of a lot better." Another coughing fit took over. Around the lodging house, boys were sniffling as they huddled under their blankets, trying to soak up any warmth they could.

"It's gettin' to be that time, Jackie," Race announced to the Manhattan leader, dropping on the bunk next to Albert and slinging an arm around the sick newsie.

"I knows, I knows," Jack agreed, frustrated. Winter was finally catching up to them. He _hated_ winter. It wasn't as if his boys didn't pick up illnesses easy enough due to lack of rest and good food, they were forced to sell papes all day in the below freezing weather.

"Boys's gonna be gettin' sick—again," Race added. "Elmer's already catching his second cold this year, and—"

"I _know_ , Race." Jack tugged his cap from his head and ran a hand through his dark hair. "We'll be okay. We always is."

It was times like these when Jack didn't feel qualified to be the leader of the Manhattan newsies. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't stop the boys from catching colds and coughs and who knows what else. All he could do was face it as it came and help them through it the best he could.

He lightly pounded a fist against the wooden post of a bunk. "Newsies, get some rest. Mornin' comes quick, and we needs the sleep."

There were no arguments from any of the boys, for which Jack was grateful. Quiet settled over the lodging house, the only sound being the wind and snow from outside—and the occasional cough from a couple of the bunks.

Jack slipped over to Crutchie's bed, pausing to eye the blond newsie. The kid was already sound asleep, curled up underneath his thin blanket. His forehead was warm to the touch, but not alarmingly so. Jack bit his lip, hoping it was nothing more than exhaustion from the long week. Crutchie got sick 'most every year, usually worse than the others. Jack had hoped he could keep the kid from enduring it this time around, but it seemed as if it wasn't to be.

With one last glance at the boy he called brother, Jack climbed up into his own bunk and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **And there you have it, the first chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Drop a review if you get the chance; I love them!**

 **See y'all next time!**

 **~Ollie**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just wanted to say a big thank you for the reviews, follows, and faves! I love y'all!**

 **Without further ado, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Jack!" A frantic voice pulled the sixteen-year-old from his dreams.

"Mm…wha'samatter, Race?" Concern crept into Jack's tone, even in half-asleep state. He sat up, squinting through the dark.

The younger boy's face appeared just inches from his own. "It's Crutchie, Jack. He's burnin' up."

All thoughts of sleep fled as Jack leapt from his bunk. "What?"

Race set the candle he held down onto the tiny bedside table. "I dunno, Jackie. I couldn't sleep. I's heard him tossin', so's I went check on 'im and he was like this."

Jack's gaze followed Race's out-flung arm pointing to where Crutchie slept.

A sheen of sweat coated the crippled boy's young face. His breaths were shallow, his limbs tangled in his blanket.

Jack reached out, placing a hand on the younger newsie's forehead. He nearly recoiled at the heat radiating off the kid. "Race, go get some water and a rag," he instructed, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the others. "Quick."

Race nodded and bolted, and Jack settled himself on the edge of Crutchie's bunk. "It's okay, kid," he murmured softly, readjusting the blanket over the boy's body.

Crutchie moaned and shifted, reaching toward the older newsie. "Jack..."

Jack caught the searching hand and squeezed it. He took a deep breath to calm himself, trying to keep his worry at bay. _He'll be fine,_ he reassured himself. Crutchie came down with something every year. _But never so bad so's quick._

Race reappeared, the requested objects clutched in his hands.

With a quick nod of thanks and a reassuring smile, Jack took the items, setting the bowl of water next to the flickering candle and dunking the rag in it.

Race hovered over Jack's shoulder as the older boy pressed the wet cloth to Crutchie's face.

The sick boy moaned, leaning into the cool touch. His eyes fluttered open. "Don't...feel so good, Jack." His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I knows. But you'll be fine," Jack promised. A few minutes passed in silence before he glanced toward Race. "Gets back t' bed, Racer. I've got 'im."

The curly-haired kid hesitated, lingering near the bedside.

"It ain't gonna do nobody no good iffin' you and I is both dead on our feet t'morrow." Jack lifted an eyebrow. "Go on. Crutchie'll be okay."

With one last uncertain glance at the tiny blond tossing in the bunk, Race conceded. "G'night, Jack."

"'Night, Race."

The boy retreated, and Jack sighed, refocusing on Crutchie.

 _Crutchie'll be okay._

He could only hope the words were true.

* * *

When the circulation bell began to ring just before dawn, Jack was still sitting by Crutchie's side, eyes drooping, one hand resting on the sick boy's cheek.

The kid had fallen into a fitful sleep just about an hour ago. His fever hadn't gone down at all—in fact, it'd gone _up_ —and it was worrying Jack more than he cared to admit.

The other newsies started stirring, moaning and groaning as they pulled themselves from their beds. Race joined Jack in seconds, bursting with questions.

Jack shook his head. "Can't leave him 'ere alone all day."

Race titled his head in a nod. "You want me to stay?"

Jack hesitated. He was the Manhattan leader, but he didn't want to leave Crutchie, even though Race was more than capable of staying behind.

Coming to a decision, he shook his head again. "You go on with the fellas. Keep 'em in line."

Race nodded slowly, buttoning his shirt up.

"Atta' boy." Jack offered a tired smile, giving the younger newsie a light punch to the arm.

Race repeated the nod and turned to shoo away the crowd that had gathered to check on Crutchie.

"C'mon fellas, let's get movin'!" he called, trying to keep his voice down.

Jack watched as the newsboys finished readying themselves. He tore himself away from Crutchie long enough to check on the rest of his boys.

Albert was still coughing more than Jack would've liked, but the kid swore he would be fine to sell, and two bunks down, Mush was none too happy about the fact that Elmer had no plans to spend the day resting at the lodging house.

The curly-haired kid's voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, and he could barely breathe through his nose. "I ain't no kid," Elmer muttered, stifling a cough as he glared at Mush. "I'll be fine."

Mush glared right back. "And if you's catch pneumonia and die, what good's that gonna do anybody?"

Elmer rolled his eyes, earning a playful slap to the arm from the older boy.

Jack shook his head, told Elmer to be careful and Mush to look out for him.

"Always do, Jackie." One corner of the dark-haired newsie's mouth turned upward in a smile.

Elmer rolled his eyes again.

"You's just watch out for Crutchie, huh?" Mush craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the boy.

Jack nodded. "Yeah. That's what brothas do, ain't it?"

Mush smirked and nodded, giving Jack one last farewell punch to the shoulder.

Once the boys filed out the door—letting as little frigid winter air blow in as possible—Jack returned to Crutchie. He was surprised to find the younger boy awake, fever-bright eyes squinting up at him.

"Hey, how's you feel?" Jack lowered himself onto the edge of Crutchie's bunk.

The boy's moan turned into a coughing fit, leaving him gasping for breath. "Worse," he croaked.

Coming from the ever-optimistic Crutchie, the words only escalated the level of Jack's concern. "Yeah? Don't worry, you'll be feelin' better in no time." He helped the sick kid drink a few sips of water.

Crutchie fell back onto the mattress. "Didn't wanna...get sick," he murmured, sticking his bottom lip out.

"I know." Jack sighed, reapplying the cold cloth to his brother's forehead. _I'm sorry._ "How's the leg?" Jack reached toward the foot of the bed to massage the younger boy's bum leg.

"Stiff," Crutchie answered softly, eyes falling shut. "But it ain't botherin' me much."

The rest of the day passed with little to no change in Crutchie's condition. The boy dozed on and off between coughing fits and fever and chills. Jack felt helpless. He didn't even know what was wrong with Crutchie. How was he supposed to help him get better?

The newsies arrived back after the evening papes were sold, keeping their usual chatter and horseplay down as they settled in for the night.

Crutchie didn't seem to be doing any worse, so Jack allowed himself to lean against the foot of the kid's bunk and close his eyes. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep, given the current situation, but he was gonna try.

Unfortunately, the night did not go as planned.

* * *

 **A/N: Yikes, poor Crutchie! Sorry for the somewhat-cliffhanger. ;P Again, I'd _love_ to hear any and all of your thoughts on this chapter! **

**(** **Please also note that I am no doctor, so I apologize in advance for any vagueness. There's not any particular diagnosis for Crutchie, but if anything seems too unrealistic, let me know! I'm always looking for ways to improve.) ;)**

 **Until next time,**

 **~Ollie**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Just want to say thanks again to those of you who have reviewed and been following this story. I can't tell you how much it means to me!**

 **I was hoping to have updated a little sooner, but life is crazy right now. (I'm going out of town this weekend to see a production of Newsies, and I am ecstatic!)**

 **I think this is one of my favorite chapters...but I'll leave it up to you to decide if you think the same. ;)**

* * *

A choked scream pierced through the night air, jerking Jack out of his restless slumber; knocking his head on the bunk above him in the process.

He rubbed at the sore spot, gears turning in his mind as he searched out the source of the sound. His eyes landed on the sight just in front of him.

Crutchie tossed in the bunk, twisting in his blankets as he cried out. His blond bangs were plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Jack leapt into action. "Hey, hey!" He caught the younger boy by the shoulders to hold him still, giving him a shake. "Wake up, kid," he urged.

Crutchie came to with a gasp, coughing and sputtering as he blinked his eyes open. His unfocused gaze met Jack's, and he whimpered. "Jack." It was barely a whisper, but the one word held so much emotion.

Jack inhaled. "Hey," he soothed, trying to keep his voice calm. "It's okay, Crutch. I'm right here."

The younger boy's chest heaved, fear apparent in his eyes, even through the dark of the lodging house. He squeezed his eyes shut and coughed.

Jack slid one hand onto Crutchie's sweat-soaked forehead, using his thumb to massage away the pained crease between the kid's eyebrows. "Shh, it's okay."

Crutchie's fingers curled around the hem of Jack's shirt, desperate for something to ground him back into reality.

Jack glanced around to make sure the sick boy's cries hadn't woken any of the other newsies. When silence met his ears, he sighed in relief and turned his attention back to Crutchie.

Jack moved his other hand to rub his brother's congested chest, encouraging him to take deep breaths. He was warmed when the boy responded to his touch, inhalations becoming steadier.

Eventually, Crutchie calmed down enough for Jack to retrieve fresh water and a cloth. He gently wiped the sheen of sticky sweat from Crutchie's face.

The blond moaned as the cool rag met his skin, blinking his eyes open.

"It's okay," Jack reassured again. "Was jus' a dream."

Crutchie tossed his head from side to side. "Wasn't," he muttered. "It—you was in The...The Refuge."

Jack caught his breath.

It had happened three years ago now, but the nightmare of a memory resurfaced fresh in his mind.

Almost all of the boys had been sick at the same time that year, even their current leader, Top. The weather was awful and the profit on papes worse. Jack Kelly would never have admitted it, but he was scared. There was no way he was letting any of them starve or freeze to death. So he'd done the only thing he'd thought reasonable—stolen the items they needed. His mission hadn't turned out the way he'd planned.

 _"Jack!"  
_

 _The hiss pulled Jack from his restless sleep, drawing his attention to the barred window. "Racetrack? What do y' think you're doin' here?" In spite of the unbearable pain due to his bruised ribs, Jack was at the tiny window in seconds, hands curled around the metal bars. "If The Spider or his goons sees ya_ _—_ _"  
_

 _"I had t' find out what happened to y', Jack." Race muffled a cough into his sleeve, hands pressed against the glass on his side.  
_

 _Jack glanced nervously over his shoulder. "You's should get goin', Racer." To ease some of the kid's fears, he offered a reassuring smile. "I'll be back 'fore you knows it."  
_

 _The younger boy hesitated, biting down on his lower lip. When his friend fixed him with an "I'm serious" look, he finally relented. "Just hurry, Jack," he pleaded. "Crutchie's been callin' for ya. Ain't nobody else can calm 'im down. An' his cough's gotten worse, too."_

"Jack?" The exhausted whisper cut through the newsie's memories, bringing him back to the present. Crutchie gazed up at the older boy, fear from his recent dream still lingering in his eyes.

Jack shook his head to clear the remaining thoughts. "Look, I's here right now, ain't I?"

Crutchie nodded slowly.

"Then don't be worryin'. I's not gonna be stupid and get myself caught like that again." _Never again,_ he swore to himself.

Some of the uncertainty drained from Crutchie's expression, replaced by exhaustion.

"Get back to sleep," Jack encouraged, eager to change the subject. "You need the rest."

Crutchie nodded agreeably, but Jack felt the boy's fist tighten its hold on his shirt.

Jack couldn't hold back a smile. Something about this kid just melted a heart, even one belonging to a tough, streetwise newsie like Jack Kelly. "G'night, Crutch."

* * *

 **I'll try to update sooner next time! Again, feedback is super appreciated and reviews make my day! What do you think is gonna happen next?**

 **Have a wonderful day, fansies!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter is a little bit shorter than the others, and I had to rework it several times, so I hope it meets y'all's approval. ;)**

 **P.S. The production of Newsies that we saw was AMAZING. Like seriously, the cast did a fantabulous job. It was so fun! I could go on, but I'm sure you're ready to get to the story. ;P**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The days turned into a week, dragging on for what felt like a year. It had seemed after the night Jack spent comforting him from his nightmare that Crutchie might've been beginning to improve, but the hope faded as quickly as it came. His fever rose again and his coughing became worse.

The boy constantly tossed and turned, drinking water and eating what he could when he was awake. Several of the others had come down with coughs and colds, too. The whole Lodging House was miserable.

It was the seventh day when Race and JoJo found Jack on the rooftop, gazing out across the streets of New York, straight face and set jaw. Despite the merciless wind that blew across the roof, the Manhattan leader stood unmoving.

The younger newsies exchanged glances.

"Jack?" JoJo ventured.

The older boy whirled on them. "Who said you's could come up here?" he snapped. Then he sighed and hung his head. "I'm sorry, fellas. I's just—"

"I know." Race offered a half-smile. Because he did. The fifteen-year-old knew Jack just about better than anybody—besides maybe Crutchie. And the way Jack was acting...he was scared. He'd never admit it, of course, but Race could tell.

"It's been a week, and there ain't been no change." Jack gripped the rail, staring out across Manhattan. "Sniper's already gettin' over his fever, an' he only had it the past two days." The newsie paused. "...Crutchie's been sick before, but never this bad off."

"He'll be fine." It was JoJo who spoke, cautious in his approach to reassure the older boy.

"It ain't just Crutchie. Them other boys is sick, too. They need more than sellin' papes in this weather can give 'em," Jack ranted. He sighed, hands still curled around the rail.

Race had seen Jack distressed before. A few winters ago, before the older boy had been hauled off to The Refuge for stealing, he'd been terrified for the boys. With nearly all of them sick—their current leader included—he'd seen no other option...and unfortunately, his plan had backfired, landing him in the hands of the Spider while the others struggled to get by.

Now, with his worrying about Crutchie and the other sick boys, the fear was rising again. The desperation was climbing, and Race wasn't about to let Jack do something he'd regret.

"Me and the fellas has been sellin' extra papes to help buy better food and stuff for Crutchie an' the others." The curly-haired boy stepped up beside Jack, hand feeling the cool metal of the coins stashed in his pocket. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Jack shook his head, offering a small smile. "Thanks, but it ain't necessary. I got it figured out."

Now Race was appalled. He growled. "'Course it's necessary, Jack! We's a family, ain't we? We look out for each other."

Behind him, JoJo nodded in silent agreement.

Race moved even closer, shoving the cigar he held at Jack's chest. "I knows you, Jack. You's plannin' to do somethin' you shouldn't."

Jack glared back. "And? Ain't it my own business if I wants to get my hide tanned?" he shot back.

"No. It ain't." Race was nose to nose with the older boy now. "You's our leader. You affect more than just yourself when you does somethin's like that." He gulped at the glare Jack was boring into him, but didn't back down. In his head, he heard Crutchie's desperate pleas for Jack; Romeo's coughs and whimpers, asking where their brother was. He saw the guilt in Top's eyes when he found out what had happened to his second-in-command. "All them boys's dependin' on y'. Ya can't just go do somethin' stupid and think you's the only one it matters to." Good grief, he sounded _exactly_ like Jack.

Race waited, eyes on the older newsie's face for any reaction. He had to admit, he was a little surprised with himself. Usually it was Jack talking _him_ out of stupid ideas. Maybe Race was being a hypocrite, but his words to his brother were true.

"We needs ya," JoJo added quietly. "'Specially Crutchie."

Race watched as Jack swallowed. He was armed and ready if the older boy tried to argue back.

The silence didn't last long.

" _Jack!_ " Mush's panicked voice drifted up to the rooftop. "Get down here! It's Crutchie."

* * *

 **Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I had to. XD Drop a review if you get the chance! I'm hoping Race didn't seem too OOC, since usually he's the reckless one. Buuuut then again, we all know Jack would do anything for his boys...**

 **Anyway, let me know your thoughts, and I'll be back with the next chapter before Christmas!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey, everybody! I hope all y'all had an amazing Christmas! Mine was relaxing and Southern-y as usual (aka it was hot XD)!**

 **I hope you guys are still enjoying this story; I appreciate the reviews more than y'all know! :D**

* * *

The three boys were scrambling down the ladder and inside the lodging house within seconds.

Jack shoved past the group of newsies gathered at Crutchie's bedside, the Racer's words still swirling around in his mind. "What's wrong?" he demanded breathlessly.

Mush glanced up at Jack, clearly flustered. "He just started breathin' hard and gasping all of a sudden. He's real hot, too." He gestured to the crippled boy on the bunk.

Jack squeezed in next to Mush and placed a hand on Crutchie's forehead. He jerked it back in surprise, his own heart pounding. _How is he so hot?_

What was he supposed to do? There was no one to turn to; Jack _was_ the one the others looked to for guidance.

He took a deep breath and turned around. "Race, you grabs some more water," Jack instructed, taking the wet cloth Mush offered and moving to place it against Crutchie's flushed cheek. "Quick."

Race bolted without having to be told twice.

"The rest of ya, back away. Give us space." Jack craned his neck to watch the worried group of newsies scatter. They returned to their bunks and the table in the corner, but all eyes were still on Crutchie.

"Mush, see if you's can find some more rags or somethin'," Jack barked out. Mush nodded and hurried away.

A pitiful moan rose from the sick boy in the bed. He choked on a cough and gasped, floundering for air.

"C'mon, kid," Jack murmured, rubbing Crutchie's chest gently. "Breathe."

Eventually, the shortness of breath passed, and Jack sighed in relief. But the fever...it was bad. Jack hadn't ever seen anyone with a fever so high—and he'd dealt with a lot of fevers in his time. Crutchie tossed and moaned, fever-bright eyes blinking open and shut. "S'hot," he muttered, half-conscious.

"I know," Jack agreed, although the lodging house was a far sight from even warm. He wrung the rag out again.

Mush and Race returned within the next few moments. They followed Jack's instructions, using the wet rags in an attempt to cool Crutchie down. Jack wished he had enough money to get a doctor to look at the boy. But that wasn't an option. They'd have to make do with what they had. They had to get Crutchie's temperature down, and fast.

"Will he be okay?" one of the younger newsies dared to speak up.

As Mush took over attempting to reassure the others, Jack's heart came to a stuttering stop.

He'd promised everyone—Race, even Crutchie—that the boy would be fine. He'd told himself the same. But in that moment, the possibility, the _slight_ idea that those reassurances weren't true filled his mind. What if Crutchie _wasn't_ okay? How could Jack go on without the kid he called little brother?

Jack set his jaw in grim determination.

 _I can't lose him._

* * *

Jack blinked his eyes open and blearily gazed around. He must've dozed off at some point in the early hours of the morning.

His memory was somewhat fuzzy, but he remembered sending the sick kiddos to bed and moving non-stop, barking out orders at the others, all of them working to get Crutchie's fever down. It seemed like hours had passed before they'd been able to lower it. Not quite to where Jack would've liked, but enough that _some_ of the concern faded.

Eventually Crutchie had stopped tossing and crying out, falling into what seemed like a restful sleep. Jack hoped the rest would do the kid good.

His sore shoulders screamed in protest as he stretched, shifting in the chair he'd hauled over to the bunk. Race was curled up against the side of Crutchie's bed, gripping the boy's wooden crutch in his hands as he slept. Jack vaguely recalled the younger boy refusing to return to his bunk when he'd finally sent the older boys to bed.

Jack's eyes drifted over to the tiny blond in the bed and was surprised to see a pair of exhausted blue eyes gazing back at him.

"Crutch?"

The kid smiled weakly. "Hey, Jackie." His voice was hoarse, but it was there.

Jack was on his feet in an instant, reaching a hand out to check the status of Crutchie's temperature. Cool, sweat-soaked skin met his touch.

"Your...your fever's broke," Jack stuttered, hoping he wasn't imagining the fact. Did he dare believe the kid was _finally_ on the mend? "You's okay." He dropped onto the bed beside his friend, relief washing over him in a giant wave. "You's okay," he repeated, raking a hand through his dark hair.

Crutchie licked his lips and frowned, gaze sliding downward. "Yeah, I's fine. Why's Race on the floor?"

Something between a laugh and choked sob bubbled up in Jack's throat, and he dropped his hand on Crutchie's head, burying his fingers in the damp blond hair. "He's okay, kid," he muttered. "Everything's okay."

Relief enveloped him once again as he realized that, for the first time in over a week, the words were true.

* * *

 **Whew, looks like Crutchie's gonna be okay! We've got one more chapter to go. I'm hoping to post that in the next couple of days, so leave a review and stay tuned! Love you awesome fansies!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm so sorry about the wait for this chapter, guys. I really wanted to have it up before the new year; just didn't happen. Oh well. I hope y'all aren't too mad at me and can enjoy this little epilogue. :)**

 **I didn't realize how short this chapter would be, but it's by far one of my favorites. The boys are just SO adorable, amiright? ;)**

 **Thank you SO SO much to anyone and everyone who has taken the time to read, follow, favorite, and review this story. I love knowing others are enjoying my stories!**

 **One last thing! I have a couple more one-shots on the way (some Race/Jack and more Crutchie/Jack brother awesomeness), but I'm running out of ideas and I want to keep writing! Send me requests/prompts! I'm cool with modern AUs and whatnot, too. Just send those ideas on over!**

 **Whew, long note. XD Without further ado, here y'all go!**

* * *

"You's not too cold? Sure you're feelin' up to it?"

"Jack." Crutchie shoved the older boy's meddling hands away and fixed him with a look before he continued buttoning up his coat. "I's fine. Missed out sellin' papes too long as it is."

Jack frowned, reaching out as Crutchie stood, just in case he needed to steady the kid. "You sure? If you ain't ready—"

The exasperated boy settled his crutch under his arm and limped toward the door. "I's ready."

"But—"

"Jack." Crutchie came to such a sudden stop that the older newsie nearly plowed into his back. He turned around. "I know...I know you's is worried. I knows I scared you and the fellas."

Jack snorted. "You're tellin' _me_."

Crutchie's soulful blue eyes searched Jack's face. "But thanks t' you, I'm okay now. My cough's almost gone and I ain't even tired." He put a hand on the other boy's shoulder. "It ain't your fault."

Jack's smile dropped. "Crutchie…"

"No, Jackie. Nothin' you could done to stop it, and you know it."

 _I could protect you boys better._ The bitter thoughts welled up.

And once again, the kid seemed to read Jack's mind. "You do everything you's can, Jack. If it wasn't for you, most o' us'd be still begging on the street...or worse." Crutchie shuddered, a shadow falling across his cheery face for only a moment. "You saved me. So stop beatin' yourself up. Please?" The words tumbled out of the kid's mouth, loving eyes gazing up at his best friend, offering undeserving gratitude.

Dang, Jack loved his kid. He swiped at his face, pretending he didn't have tears welling up in his eyes, and gave Crutchie a gentle shove. "What're ya waitin' for? Let's get a move on!"

The boy grinned and hurried to catch up with the other newsies.

Jack followed at a slower pace. He could hear the boys laughing as they moved down the street, Crutchie in their midst, most of them fully on the mend from whatever sicknesses they'd picked up in the harsh weather.

"Didja' get your coat, Crutchie? You sure you ready?" the other newsies mocked.

"Shuddup, fellas." Crutchie glared playfully.

Race smirked and Jack shook his head. Maybe he _was_ mother-henning a bit too much, but then again, he supposed, that was his job. These boys were nothing short of family, and he vowed to watch out for all of them.

Always.

* * *

 **One last THANK YOU! Drop a review and let me know what you thought of this story! Feedback helps me improve future stories/writing! I love you guys! Keep on carryin' that banner! :D**

 **~Ollie**


End file.
